


reach

by mother_hearted



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Catboys, Fetishism, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is a virgin and the whole world knows. Loveless AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reach

**Author's Note:**

> hannibalkink: Will has cat ears and a tail. Bonus points if said ears and tail follow _Loveless_ logic.

In your dream he touches you. 

The pad of his finger traces the tips of your ears buried in curls of hair. You close your eyes and sigh, feel his large palm when his hand cups the back of your neck. His hand slides down your back, finding your tail and stroking the coarse hair there. 

You wake up disturbed you didn't push him away.

 

Going to the grocery store is a nightmare. Men try to give you their numbers because you are their fetish. When you ignore them they get angry with you, for being a tease, for being cold, _no wonder you still have your ears._

You don't give them power by looking into their eyes.

 

As a general rule, you don't like being touched. Alana Bloom respects you. She holds her hand out to you and some days you'll take it. Feel her answering squeeze and smile. Jack Crawford doesn't care. Steers you back through a crime scene with his hand on your shoulder, confident you won't try running away - he's right. You grit your teeth, wrap your tail around your waist, and look, until your mind is nothing but an epic cinema, you starring as the murderer with a pickaxe. 

If your ears twitch and someone snickers, you don't validate it with a confrontation. 

 

You're accosted at a gas station, it ends poorly. He screams at you, for making fun of him, for setting him up, _I bet the fucking things are fake._ He tries to touch your ears and you jerk away, nearly slam your car door on your own foot with how quickly you jump in. 

You used to talk back but now you're thirty two and _tired._

 

Hannibal Lecter has you scheduled for two appointments a week. Coincidentally, you also have dinner with him twice a week. 

The evening is quiet, you stab a chunk of tomato with your fork but you don't eat it. 

You speak.

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up."

"Perhaps if you specified the subject."

"These," you reply, tugging at one of the ears at the top of your head gently. You don't say _my ears_. You know what they are. You know people want to take them from you, like it's a game, a quest, a point of personal pride to de-virginize you.

"Do you associate intrinsic value with virginity?"

Snorting, you grin humorlessly.

"It's not a super power."

"In our society maturity is defined by both age and milestones, including the successful completion of puberty and the sexual awakening found within it. It is ironic that in our sexually frustrated culture you are seen as a social deviant."

You feel an urge to bare your teeth. 

"What I want is to stop being seen as a _challenge._ "

Hannibal Lecter smiles at you.

 

You dream he's touching you, hands on your spread open thighs, warm mouth on your cock. Your head is tipped back, throat bared, mouth working soundlessly. 

You say _yes, yes, yes._

When you come down his throat your alarm blares.

 

You say yes when he offers you a drink, the two of you sitting on the couch in his office. You spend more time holding the glass than drinking from it. Hannibal notices. 

"Will?"

"Do you still see me as a mongoose, waiting for the snakes to slither by?"

There's a pause before he answers, just because he can. 

"I see you as an equal."

_Hah._

"Right," your lips twitch, smile far from kind.

You should have expected that.

"You don't believe me."

"I might have an active imagination but I live in reality, Dr. Lecter."

 

You dream he owns you. 

Fucks you, destroys you, buries himself inside so deep you'll feel him even when he's gone.

You wake up achingly hard. 

 

You corner him. 

You want so desperately to believe.

"Tell me to stay the night."

Hannibal does.


End file.
